Posts filed under 'StepMania'
It’s been far more than a little unusual looking at Grey’s posts and wondering, “Wow, does he really think that about us arrow stompers?” In reality, I suppose he’s right. The question should rather be phrased, “Do we really look that freaking stupid so as to cause the rest of the world to think we’re all socially inept?” Of course, different people will have different tolerances for looking stupid in public, and thank the Maker for that; without that egregious imbalance in the shame receptors of some folks, we’d never have “Girls Gone Wild Vol. Eleventy-Billion”.
That said, I think he hit the nail on the head with this: “I can now admit that it does have some appeal as a social game.” I’ve been playing DDR quasi-seriously for about three years now; with a significant amount of that time being spent as part of a regional group, the now-disbanded DDR Erie. The group was comprised of late high-school to early/mid college-age people, all reasonably skilled at the game. When I joined up, I’d only had about maybe two or three months of off-and-on exposure to the game (read: one day on, four days off while my legs were in excruciating pain). When the group dissolved last year, I was at a six-to-seven foot play level (standard difficulty), and I’ve recently jumped up to low eight-foot songs on heavy difficulty. There’s a solid skill progression involved, and with a group of like-minded folks who don’t mind you looking relatively silly, it’s an excellent way to pass time and get exercise.
That brings me to Grey’s remark about losing weight. He dropped all of about two pounds over thirty days– hardly a variation that he or I could consider proof that he lost any weight at all. But, the problem may not be traced to DDR specifically– I’d have to say it was his diet as well. DDR is not that dissimilar from a step-aerobics regimen, as quite frankly you’re still doing basically the same motion with your legs, just at varying tempos and directions. As a result it can help a player burn through a significant portion of his or her activity requirements for a day. However, it’s not enough. Most of the “lost xx pounds” stories on sites like Get Up Move (which is a thinly-veiled advertisement for RedOctane, who makes the DDR clone In The Groove) neglect to mention or downplay the significance of dietary changes in the weight loss. As a personal anecdote, let’s look at my case. As I said, I’ve played semi-regularly for about three years now. During the first two years my diet did not change, and my weight actually increased. Since January of this year, I changed my eating habits and maintained a similar regimen of activity (including DDR); by May I had lost forty pounds. The strangest part was that I actually played DDR less often between January and May due to life interference than I had during the previous two years. So while the DDR-weight-loss stories may not be all hype, they’re still mostly hype.
Ultimately, it is all about a particular mindset that seems to be a bit odd, even among the hardcore gamers. The driving force which keeps arrow-stompers, well, stomping arrows, is the drive to get higher scores and to get better. The coveted AAA (no mistakes at all, all arrows stepped on with “Perfect” or “Marvelous” accuracy and all helds held) is a hallmark of a player’s ability. It means as much to a non-gamer as a .700 lifetime batting average does to someone who doesn’t follow baseball, or a 90% lifetime pass-completion rate does to someone who doesn’t follow American football. Within the circle, it’s a legend. Outside of the circle, it’s meaningless, and admittedly “pathetic awesome”, as had been said. But the competition within the circle drives players to these scores.
I wish, actually, that Grey had had the opportunity to go to a DDR tournament during the trial. I’ve participated in a few, and it’s really at these gatherings that you get a sense of the strength of the community. At one of these events, someone made note that a DDR tournament has a much different atmosphere than, say, a Tekken tournament. To cite his example, the players at the Tekken event were loud, belligerent, even downright mean to each other; shouting obscenities, pushing, even a fistfight at one point. This was a cut-throat match, and there wasn’t even any more than about $50 on the line. This was in contrast to the DDR tournament that we were in the midst of; players cheered each other on, clapped after every match (no matter how good or bad the players were– which was a lucky thing for me at the time), and there was an atmosphere of excellent sportsmanship. Heck, nobody even used any profanity. The top prize was a $300 metal dance controller.
I can’t say with any certainty that the experience is universal. In fact, it may have been isolated to the Pittsburgh region; I haven’t had that much contact with the Cleveland DDR scene, but most of it has been kind of aloof and somewhat antagonistic. Still, it’s what I’ve experienced, and based on other accounts I’ve heard from the US and the world over, I’m not alone in feeling this sense of friendly rivalry.
So, ultimately, while I am a little sad to know that the dance-game craze couldn’t attract one more convert, I am glad to know that Grey gave it a fair shot. Though in all honesty, there was a distinct lack of crotch-grabbing in that video, so his commitment to feeling the groove (to say nothing of his goods) is somewhat suspect at best. Meh, no matter. He has tasted the sweet pain that is Paranoia Survivor; he’ll be back.
September 2nd, 2006
Judgement day has come. I have spent four weeks trialling the DDR simulator Stepmania, and in the process also given the real Konami arcade machines a shot. I haven’t gotten to try it out as a party game, or attempted to make my own step files as I initially thought I would. But I have advanced very far in the ranks of difficulty. In my first 90 minutes of play I struggled to scrape together a B on a 2-foot difficulty of Billie Jean. Now, 28 days later, I’ve found myself able to achieve a B on an 8-foot version of the same song. And I know through my experiences of playing that I have the potential to go even further. At times I have procrastinated from playing, the simple fact that I’ve received little joy from it often putting me off, but there can be no doubt that overall I have put in the time and effort to be able to properly judge the game.
Some people got very offended by my initial remarks about the genre, and how ridiculous I thought the whole concept was. I think there is a danger sometimes that when you socialise with others who share the same interests you lose sight of how the outside world views your activities. Most people have their heads screwed on and realise that what they’re doing is a bit strange, but carry on because they find it fun. But it’s very important not to forget the fact that these games are considered to be very peculiar, and the vast majority of people I’ve mentioned this project to find the idea of playing at home on your own just, well, freakish. We all have our own little peculiarities and activities that aren’t quite normal, but most of us draw a line somewhere, beyond which lies what we consider too weird and dare not venture. For me dancing around trying to step on buttons in time with some silly tune was past that line. Perhaps the line between that and Punchmania or the roguelikes I enjoy is very thin, but it was still my line.
Has that changed? Do I now have more respect for this genre and the people that play it? Would I consider playing it again myself? Well… Let me get onto that in a bit… (yes, I like teasing) One surprising thing was finding that quite a few other people I know play this game regularly, or have previously mastered some aspect of DDR in the past. No one in real life, I admit, but quite a lot of my online friends. Of course I knew they were all quite nerdy people anyway, but I didn’t realise just how many actually enjoyed dance games. The genre’s popularity is even more prolific than I first thought.
Getting into the game at first had its difficulties. If anyone decides to try out dance games based on reading this then I think I’d recommend you first try out one of the many Playstation games available before moving on to Stepmania, and making use of their tutorials. When playing don’t be afraid to spread out into more difficult songs. Keep adventuring beyond what you’re comfortable with. If you have trouble then practise on a song you feel you can nearly reach, and if you’re determined enough you will make it. Video game and TV/anime themes may be fun to dance to, but with a lack of clear rhythm they aren’t always good teachers. You’re best relying on pop or dance songs that you know well to help push you up to higher difficulties, which will then make you better at all the songs you have. Improving in just one song will make you better at the whole game. A good dance mat may help – preferably one of the foam filled ones – but with some polystyrene and sticky back plastic you can do a Blue Peter job on a cheap mat that will suffice.
When I bought the dance mat a month ago I also purchased a set of scales for £3 so I could compare my start and end weights. I can’t imagine these cheap scales are hugely accurate, but I’m sure they’re good enough for a relative comparison. I should stress that I’m not very healthy. My diet mostly consists of large quantities of chocolate and microwave meals. I may be of average size and healthy weight, but I’m not athletic in the slightest and never have been. At the start I weighed in at 75 kilos (165 lbs). I’ve been playing for 4 weeks, constantly increasing the difficulty at which I play, often doing 2 hour long sessions, and during that time my diet has been as bad as ever. At the end of it all my weight has shifted to 74 kilos – that’s a 2 lb difference. Not much, but admittedly still a slight loss. Do I feel any healthier? Well, kind of I guess. I certainly have a lot more stamina for the game than I did at the start, but that may just be due to getting used to playing. Every time I’ve increased in difficulty I’ve found it more physically exhausting, but each time I’ve quickly gotten used to it. My trousers feel maybe a slight amount slacker, but overall I look the same.
There can be no doubt that DDR can aid slightly as part of a regular exercise and diet program. However, I think anyone interested in seriously losing weight is better off with the likes of step aerobics that have been more scientifically verified to be of major benefit. I don’t fully believe all the reports of people losing major amounts of weight purely through DDR. If you make a conscious decision to put effort into losing weight then that’s going to have an impact on many areas of your life, such as diet and physical activity, not just one game you play frequently. I would personally like to shift a little weight, but I have neither the willpower nor the motivation to make the necessary lifestyle changes. I don’t think DDR could ever make any significant impact on its own.
As silly and stupid as the genre seemed to me a month ago, I can now admit that it does have some appeal as a social game. Playing with friends is bound to be fun, especially if they’re on the same level of skill and you can compete directly with them. Would I do it myself? Probably yes, in fact. Not anywhere near as regularly as I’ve been playing in the last month, but I’d certainly enjoy playing this game with friends every now and then, especially if I can beat them. However, this is something I have unfortunately not actually experienced, and I think perhaps that if I were to then I would eventually get bored of it. I could never go so far as to compete in DDR team competitions and such – that would just be ludicrous. Still, playing with friends is something I’d be happy to give a shot if the opportunity ever arises.
Would I play it on my own? I’ve obviously been doing it a lot this last month. Being able to advance to such high difficulties in such a short time says something about the game itself, and how easy it can be to pick up and master. I have had a lot of satisfaction and joy through playing the game, whenever I’ve achieved something I thought would be impossible. But to be honest it’s been similar to the sort of satisfaction I get when at work, setting a new record for how many assessments I can complete in a month, or managing to deal with some important case or query well. It’s not the usual joy I get purely from playing a game I like. I have not once actually looked forward to playing – normally I’ve put it off as much as possible. I enjoy doing well, and I enjoy getting to dance to music I like, but the basic game itself just isn’t enjoyable enough to keep me playing. And so I’m hanging up my dancing shoes for now. My dance mat has been packed away, and unless someone else wants to play with me I don’t anticipate bringing it out again.
And now for a little treat. Want to know how good I’ve gotten? Well have a look. One of my housemates got a new phone yesterday, so this was a good chance to test out its video functions. As you can see the framerate and video quality are very poor, but it still looks fairly impressive I think. If you listen you can hear the thumps of when my foot hits the mat – a lot of these steps can’t be seen at the low frame rate, but you can hear clearly how fast I’m going. Overall I didn’t do so well in that performance - my last dance, in fact. Got a C but I should have done better – unfortunately the camera was very distracting. Still, this is the first time I’ve had a chance to see my own footwork, and I was pretty amazed myself.
There have been highs and lows to my month of reviewing, but in the end I think I’ve come out somewhere in the middle. This game may not be for me, but I don’t think as badly of the real DDRers any more. Yeah it’s stupid, yeah it looks ridiculous, but I can see how they could get some enjoyment out of it. I still think it’s pretty sad and weird to want to do it on your own. I mean why would anyone get much enjoyment from this? What is so attractive about the game that would make it fun to play on your own on a regular basis? But I suppose there are worse ways to spend your time, and others could easily say the same things about the games I enjoy.
It’s been an interesting experience getting to grips with the game, and I certainly don’t regret the time I’ve spent on it. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading these posts. I’ll now hand over to John to defend the game he loves. Perhaps he can explain the joy behind solo play, which has still mostly eluded me…
September 2nd, 2006
Nothing can make you feel more utterly humbled than to think you’re doing well in a game and then to try out the highest difficulty level. I’ve been encouraged that going to the arcades again would be a waste of time and money, since it seems those machines are too badly damaged to be worth rating properly. But I figured the next best thing would be to download some more actual DDR tunes, and I got a few recommendations from friends. Out of delusions of grandeur I decided it might be an idea to try some of the 10-foots as well. And thus I tried PARANOiA survivor, which I had already heard was pretty scary. Watching the arrows fly past I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry… The speed was just insane. If I concentrated I could keep up with one of the arrows. With some practise I could maybe cover 2 of them. But all 4? Holy crap…
The attempts at other DDR songs were mixed. Some 6-foots I did well in, and I even passed a couple of 7s. Overall I wasn’t pleased though. One problem is that I don’t know the tunes very well, so I can’t follow the rhythm as easily. A much bigger issue though is speeds. I’ve wrapped myself in cotton wool to date, pretty much always playing songs around 120 bpm, maybe sometimes a little faster. I don’t mind if a song has some far faster sections within them as long as it goes with the tune well, but an entirely fast or slow song is usually just unplayable for me. So experiencing these very fast DDR songs was pretty bewildering, and I had a lot of trouble trying to keep up. The Afronova songs in particular just spanked my ass red-raw – I was utterly useless at them.
To try to master the highest songs must take a very long time. To learn these by playing on the arcade machines would simply make you very broke. Surely there are better things to spend money on? Like a nice big tub of ice cream? You wouldn’t work yourself into a stupid sweat from that now, would you? I mean, with the sort of money that must be spent on these machines maybe some of the extreme players could, I dunno, maybe save up enough to buy themselves a life? But as much as I deride DDR players I do admit most of them are fairly decent people, and it was nice to find out that some of them do have enough of a sense of humour to be able to pick fun of themselves, as evidenced by the Cornell DDR club videos for 2004 and 2005. There’s an old saying: “Blessed is he who can laugh at himself, for he shall never cease to be amused.” It’s a pity that for a minority of people this is just too hard.
On the subject of things being too hard, I have noticed one interesting thing about playing Stepmania – it has definitely reduced my libido. It seems that regular exercise really does help keep the little pecker down. It hasn’t been this inactive since I was 12! Definitely an advantage when single…
Moving and grooving on (as I’m sure you’d like to), I gave up on those more difficult DDR songs I’d been attempting. Trying to learn to do better at very high speeds seemed fairly futile, especially with songs I didn’t know. I returned back to my old favourites, the songs I knew and loved. And I was in for a bit of a shock. I was still having trouble with some 6-foots, so hadn’t tried much in the way of 7-foot yet. That which I had tried usually turned out poorly. But an attempt at 7-foot Liberi Fatali (the Final Fantasy 8 intro theme) instantly got me a B. I was still having trouble getting Bs in some 6-foots, so this was a great pleasure to me.
So next I decided to return to the song that had first helped me get up the ladder in Stepmania: Billie Jean. The 4-foot I was already very comfortable with, and so now it was time to get heavy. 8-foot Billie Jean was my next target, and I quickly found it wasn’t a complete fantasy. Yes, it was fast, it was hard, and it was filled with half-steps – often with strings of 9 or more in a row, including half-steps in between jumps and freezes. But it was not impossible, oh no. Knowing the beat well helped me immensely, and on my second go I pulled off a C. For the second time in my four weeks of playing this game I grinned and shouted “yes!” Not coincidentally it was on the same song as the last time. But I wasn’t going to stop at a C, now was I? A few more attempts got me exhausted pretty quickly, but I was still only getting Cs. Finally after about my 5th go I managed to keep my life bar at full by the end of the song, and I got a rating I could be happy with – B.
I had a certain glow of satisfaction after this – hard to describe, but it felt good. I’d achieved something I didn’t think would be possible in the time I have. It was through hard work and determination, and in the end that struggle paid off. It left me very sweaty though – extremely damned sweaty. Heard the expression bathed in sweat before? Well, for once I know how it feels – it seemed perspiration was oozing from every inch of skin on my body. Except my feet, strangely… But getting a B in a 8-foot difficulty song was most definitely worth needing an extra shower and change of clothes. It’s a proud achievement for me, and a great way to end this 30 day project.
For end it must, and that end is most certainly nigh. My final tango with Stepmania is due tomorrow, and my ultimate judgement of the game must come then.
Positives: I still keep surprising myself with my ability to improve. Just when I think I’ve hit a solid barrier and I can’t progress any more I find some area I can improve in and my skill at the whole game advances even further.
Negatives: For once I don’t feel I have anything really negative to report here. Actually, one problem is that the mat is getting increasingly battered. If I wanted to keep playing then I’d have no choice but to buy a new pad to be able to dance more properly. Still, for a free program it’s only fair that you would have to buy a decent interface yourself, and the foam-filled pads aren’t all that expensive.
Overall so far: Playing the arcade machines has made me respect the ability to play at home more. Previously I thought it was pretty sad and pathetic to play on your own at home, and that the whole DDR genre was probably far better when played with friends. I do still think that now, but I at least see how there are a lot of major advantages to playing at home as opposed to the expense and troubles of using an arcade machine.
September 1st, 2006
Touched for the very first time… The cold metal pads against my feet, the hard metal bar behind me, and in front of me the large circular speakers and a dancing model on the screen. Yes, this was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. Finally the soles of my feet were touching a real dancing arcade machine. I knew no fear. I knew no wonder. I was a point of order and calm, fully prepared for the task I was to face. I was ready… Ready to dance!
Finding an arcade in the first place proved to be a challenge. The two that I had known previously both turned out to have been shut down. Alas for the fall of the arcade… Thankfully a trip to a game store got me directions to one on the other side of town, so all was not in vain. The arcade was at the side of a bowling alley, and mostly filled with children and teenagers. It contained two dance machines: Dancing Stage Euromix 2 and Dancing Stage Fusion. Before we go further, I’d best explain for those who don’t know – “Dance Dance Revolution” does not seem to exist in Europe. Instead we have “Dancing Stage” games made by Konami, using the same engines as the DDR games but with different songs. Dancing Stage Fusion apparently uses the same engine as DDR Extreme. I only found all this out after I got home…
The dance games seemed to be the main attraction in the arcade, so I had to wait my turn a few times before I could play. It was £1 per play on both machines (about $1.80 at current exchange rates), which gives you 3 songs to dance to unless you fail one of them. This obviously makes arcades expensive, which is the biggest reason why I’ve been using Stepmania all this time. Considering how much I’ve played I’d be out of pocket by at least £150 ($270) from the last few weeks of gaming.
Euromix 2 first got my attention, and I tried 3 songs on it. Overall I got annoyed with this machine. There were very few songs in the playlist, with pretty much nothing I wanted to dance to, and the menu system was quite poor. For instance it didn’t display the difficulty levels a song had available until you chose it, so for the first song I chose I could only do 4-foot since that’s as high as it went. All my future playing was made on the Fusion machine, which had a mix of old and new popular songs, as well as some DDR “classics” – PARANOIA survivor and the like (no, I did not attempt that). Thankfully on its song selection menu it shows which different difficulty ratings are available underneath the name of the song before you pick it. Some of the songs I enjoyed playing on it were Like A Virgin, Ladies’ Night, and best of all It’s Raining Men. Those reading these articles may have picked up that I have a certain preference for old cheesy classics…
As it turns out I did very poorly on that first 4-step anyway. Getting used to the new interface was difficult. I was like a virgin – fumbling, disorientated, with poor rhythm and often just not hard enough to do the job right. I’m used to playing in just my socks on a thin, soft mat that’s responsive to even the lightest of touches. This large, hard dance machine was cold and unresponsive, requiring firmer and heavier steps to be registered properly, and wearing shoes didn’t help my usual sense of where my feet were. Freeze steps were the worst – often halfway through it wouldn’t sense my foot on the pad any more and I’d get a NG (whatever that means – obviously not as good as the usual OK). This may be due to damage to the machines through abusive players, or possibly I just need lead weights in my shoes to help me dance… To add to my frustration there was a glare on the screens that made me miss arrows now and then. I failed on 2 songs, which I’m not particularly proud of, and more importantly annoyed at since that means I lost my money.
Overall I played around 15 songs, ranging from 4 to 6 foot (mostly did 5s). Interestingly, although I felt like I did terribly, my ratings weren’t too bad overall – mostly Bs and Cs. It seems that the rankings are far more generous in the arcade games, because I definitely wouldn’t have gotten that high a mark for such a performance at home. Also, the difficulty ratings are most definitely toned down from what I’m used to. 6-foots were like 5-foots, 5-foots were like 4-foots, etc. The 6-foots I played had nothing in comparison to the intensity of what I’ve been trying at home lately. None of the songs remotely tired or exhausted me, in spite of a fair amount of perspiration. It’s a pity I didn’t try any 7-foots actually, but with the troubles I was having on the machines I might have just been throwing my money away.
One interesting thing about the machines themselves is the announcers, who come out with all sort of supportive comments as you play. “That was beautiful!” “Hear the crowd go wild!” “You’re fantastic!” I now see why some DDR players get really offended if you insult their genre – they have these damned commentators telling them how amazing they are no matter how badly they screw up! Playing this game on the machines too much would quickly give you an ego the size of Greenland. I don’t have any announcers on Stepmania, but if I’m ever having a bad day I’ll be sure to load one up and hear them praise my footwork.
A new experience for me was getting to see other people play. I was very impressed watching two teenage girls doing a double together (no, not in a sick way, you pervert). Their style of play was quite different to mine – turning their bodies 90º for up and down arrows, and shifting their whole bodies over for single left or right arrows. They were very active and bouncy (I said stop the dirty thoughts!) and moved in time with the rhythm very well. On a couple of the songs I saw them do they got AAs. Watching them I thought they were very impressive, but when I looked at the arrows on the screen I realised they were only doing what looked like 4-foot difficulty. I also saw a couple try out the game for what looked like their first time – trying to use the tutorial mode to learn. Didn’t seem to do them any good though… I’m definitely glad I used Stepmania to learn rather than throwing money away on these useless machines.
Positives: Step-wise this is actually much easier. If the settings were right I could achieve way higher difficulty ratings.
Negatives: Difficult to get to, other music in the background, small selection of songs, annoying menu timers, unresponsive buttons, light glare, other people queuing for a go, not being able to shower straight afterwards, and worst of all having to pay a lot of money to play. I’m beginning to see why one would prefer to play at home…
Overall: An interesting experience, but certainly not something I’d want to repeat. However, this site has never been particularly about what I want, has it…?
August 28th, 2006
[EDIT: Big thanks to Grey for getting the Blog of the Day award for Games for August 27, 2006!
— JZ]
A number of years back there was a game that consistently drew me to arcades around the country. It was called “Punchmania”, and as you might guess it involved punching the arcade machine. It had a story and stages to it based on the anime “Fist of the North Star” (aka Hokuto no Ken) and you could play as Kenshiro, Rei, or even on the hardest difficulty Roah (where you would in the end have to beat the good guy Ken). You had to punch six pads as they emerged from the machine – the trick was to hit them at exactly the right moment when the light came on, and not to use too much force. At the end of each stage you had to perform some special Hokuto or Nanto move to finish off the opponent – usually something like punching the pads 100 times in 5 seconds. It was highly fun and very addictive, and I probably spent a lot of money on it overall. After extensive playing I began to find that I would see lit up pads when I closed my eyes, imagining the timing of when to hit them.
After 3 weeks of extensive playing of Stepmania - which has become a lot more concentrated lately as I try harder to better myself - I find that I’m suffering something similar. When I close my eyes I see arrows. Multi-coloured arrows float up through my head and I imagine the steps I would have to make to them. And it’s a lot worse than it was with Punchmania – happening much more frequently, especially first thing in the morning or going to bed at night. When half asleep is the worst time – I end up trying to do steps and waking myself up (as documented previously).
Playing Stepmania has made me realise a few things about my other gaming interests. Firstly, I don’t think I’ll ever again play a single game as much as I’m playing this right now – it’s simply unhealthy, and I’m not in any way comfortable with how my mind is becoming obsessed with the game. Secondly, the reason I liked Punchmania yet mock DDR games was mostly due to its theme – I would never have played it if it wasn’t based on Fist of the North Star. The game itself was fun, but not as fun as the anime behind it which generated a real love for the game. Thirdly, and most importantly for me, I’ve realised the reason I enjoy RPGs so much. It’s that sense of continuous progression, constantly improving your character with higher levels and new skills, stats, equipment etc, making you more able to face greater challenges. That joy I’m experiencing somewhat with Stepmania, and the character I’m improving is of course me.
But it can’t last forever. There will come a point where I can do no better, and it’s not like I can just start again from level one. This satisfaction from improvement is ultimately doomed to disappear, and without any story or entertaining theme to the game there will no longer be a reason to play. For me the game has only that one major drawing point, and it’s short-lived. Even now I find there are many songs I like that I don’t dance to any more, because they only have low level difficulty settings. Now that I’m beyond them what’s the point?
I do have a competitive streak in me, so if I had people around me who played as well then I would be tempted to keep playing in competition with them, rising myself to even greater heights. Like this guy here has, or even more impressively this other guy. Looking at those videos has made me realise just how poor a player I am in comparison with the masters.
I’ve said goodbye to 4 and 5-foot now – I only use them for warm-ups at the start of a session. I thought they were hard before, but trying out 6-foot difficulty songs has been a whole new level of intensity. As I said before, 4 and 5 foot songs use a lot more in the way of half-beat steps and diagonal jumps. 6-foot goes beyond that by making most of the steps either jumps or half-beats or some other difficult manoeuvres, all whilst vastly increasing the speed and density of arrows. This basically means you’re pretty much constantly moving both feet, as opposed to having little rests for one or more feet every so often on the easier levels. Dancing can get frantic and desperate as you try to keep twisting your body round to quickly hit the steps. There’s no more time for thought and planning – you need to react instantly to everything you see.
So how have I been doing at this new difficulty level I’m forcing myself into? Well, mixed results overall. The easier ones I can get As and Bs on, the harder ones Es and Fails. To be honest I’m simply awful at timing the half-steps, and I get the diagonal jumps wrong a lot. My proudest performance has been getting a B in “No Limit”, which is apparently from one of the actual DDR mixes. I’ve found it to be very hard, but kept pushing myself to get a good result. When I got that B I actually felt like I was dancing in the same way as the guy in the first video above, with my feet constantly flowing between the buttons at high speed.
One thing I’ve been trying to figure out is the five variables of Stream, Voltage, Air, Freeze and Chaos. Every song has different maximums for these at different difficulty levels, and your performance at the song determines how well you do in each category. Air seems to be for jumps, which I usually do well enough in, and Freeze seems to refer to holding steps, which I’m often perfect at. The other 3 I’m normally okay with, apart from Voltage which I’m sometimes awful at, but I can’t figure out what they mean. In one song on which I hit every step I got Voltage to maximum, so it could maybe have something to do with combos. What’s interesting about these ratings is that the maximum values for each seem to be determined by the game itself, so it’s a way of telling how hard the song really is, irrespective of how the step-chart maker has set the difficulty rating.
I’m now into the last week of my 30 day trial of Stepmania, and I feel I have come very far. Dancing to “No Limit” has forced me to play in a different way – something more chaotic; far faster with less time to think, and both feet constantly moving. I need to improve my timing with this style of play, but it’s putting me on the path to mastering the higher difficulty levels. I’m a completely different type of player than I was 22 days ago when I first got my feet on a dance mat. And so now I feel I’m ready to face the machine. That’s right, tomorrow I will be going to an arcade to find an actual DDR machine (or one of its clones) to test my feet and my skills against the might of the real Dance Dance Revolution.
Positives: My computer isn’t good enough to run Stepmania whilst also recording a video of it – quite a handy excuse not to put up embarrassing clips for now. Oh, you want to know something positive about the game? Well, er… let me get back to you on that one…
Negatives: The arrows, the arrows! They’re all around me, make them stop!! For the love of god please stop!!!
Overall so far: Expert DDR players are scary. But even scarier is the feeling that I don’t think it would take me that long to actually get up to that level of play. But that would involve more arrows invading my head, and they scare me even more…
August 27th, 2006
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